Yesterday, the storm dumped another 8 inches of snow in my neighborhood, based on the report from O’Hare Airport. This morning I could not determine an exact measurement. Last night, a Demon North Wind blew. He rattled windowpanes, howled around corners, and pounded his fist on my walls. I didn’t sleep, and I didn’t let him inside. If I had known he was leaving me a present, I might have waved hello.

When I pile snow, I am strategic with my placement. I have lived on this property long enough to know the prevailing winter wind likes to deposit an enormous snowdrift across the middle of the drive. Past years have seen waist-deep drifts accumulated while leaving the brown grass exposed in the front yard. My plan was a simple snow-pile windbreak thrown three to four feet from the cement edge. My snow fence worked like magic, and chest-deep snow covered the front yard. Demon North Wind’s mighty roar left only two to three inches on the concrete. My job was a breeze.

Mother Nature sent me a harbinger to serenade my efforts and let me know Spring is not far away. Two robins chirped in the parkway trees. I heard their calls and could not believe my ears. They must have sensed my doubt because they flew to my tree. “We are here,” they said. “Winter wants to stay, but Mother insists and says he must go. It is our turn to play.” Somehow, the snow felt lighter after their visit. There are thirty-one days to count before Spring’s official arrival.

No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 567 words.

Did you write yesterday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer